Rebels in Equestria 8

> God, it's these fucking dreams again
> No, they’re more like nightmares
> No matter how hard you try, you can't force yourself to wake up
> You're forced to relive your past in shame

> Thunder cracks overhead, the rain pours down even harder than before
> In the distance you hear the distinct sound of jet fighters engaged in a dog fight
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCQ66RuYIqc
> The road was narrow and destroyed buildings on the side of the roads offered excellent hiding spots
> Your headset springs back to life, this time it’s a familiar voice.
> It’s Boss, the squadron leader.
> “Alright listen up! The first and third halftrack on the convoy is full of supplies we could use. Try to keep the cargo on those intact. The second and fourth are full of Stovie troops, I want those blown to hell. The fifth halftrack is full of prisoners of war and is driven by our inside guys. Do not engage the fifth halftrack! I repeat. DO NOT, engage the fifth halftrack. Those guys are defectors. They’re on our side. Everyone ready? Good. Await my signal to fire.”
> Mac’s voice rings through your headset “Anon! Hey Anon!”
> You speak into your mic, the sound of the rain would drown out your voice from the Estovakians.
“Yeah Mac? What’s up?”
> “You see that technical? That's HMG mounted on the back. We’re going to be in a world of hurt if we don’t take it out. Anon, you're the closest to it. Think you can take care of it ?”
“I'll try. No promises”

> One by one the drivers disembark their vehicles. Many of them are huddled around the first truck trying to change the flat tires.
> You pull out some unlit Molotov cocktails from your bag and some extra magazines.
> You affix a bayonet and a ‘flash suppressor’ onto your hunting rifle.
> Your flash suppressor was nothing more than a car oil filter attached to the muzzle of your weapon.
> The drivers of the fifth halftrack, the defectors, stepped out of their vehicle. They wore a slightly different uniform from the rest of the soldiers.
> “Alright boys, get ready.”
> The defectors began chatting with some of the other troops
> “Hold your fire. Not yet.”
> Using a zippo lighter, you ignite some of the molotovs on hand
> The enemy had finished replacing the tires on the first half track, and returned to their trucks.
> Instead of returning to the cabin of their truck, the defectors climbed into the cargo bay.
> “Alright! That’s the signal! Go Go Go!”

> You spring out of the ditch and start running towards the convoy at full speed.
> You could feel the adrenaline pumping in your veins
> The rest of your squadron popped out of their hiding spots and began firing as well
> They were hiding in a abandoned building from the opposite side of the street
> The sound of thunder and gunfire was absolutely deafening
> At least a dozen Molotovs lit up the night sky before crashing onto the convoy.
> The technical's gunner had turned his back at you and begun firing at the rebels
>  You toss your molotov at him, setting him ablaze
> In a panic he falls off the technical and stumbles about
> You charge at him, the sharp bayonet acting as a spear
> The soldier cries in pain as you drive the bayonet deep into his chest
"Fuck you."
> You drop him to the cement and shoot him a few more times for good measure
> You kneel down over the dead body and remove his dogtags, shoving them in your pocket.

> You then shift your focus towards the cabin, the occupants completely oblivious to your presence
> The soldier passenger seat was frozen in fear
> As you approached the cabin you were able to get a good look at him
> He was a young man, probably younger than you
> You saw his name and rank embedded on his uniform. Tatarin, Private First Class
> This transport operation was probably one of his first assignments, it would also be his last
> You hold the rifle up to his chest
> You specifically remember this man, he spoke Estovakian. You don’t speak Estovakian at all
> But now in your dreams, for some reason, you are able to make out what he is saying
> "Please. Show some Mercy..I have done nothing wrong...Please, I'll do anyth-"
> His plea for mercy is swiftly met with the end of your bayonet
> [spoiler] Your prevalent disregard for human life disgusts you [/spoiler]
> Feeling accomplished with your work, you move on to the next target

> You aim your rifle at the driver's skull
> The fleshy sound of the bullet's impact puts a coy grin on your face
> Something about made you feel good.
> It's hard to describe the euphoria you achieved by killing the enemy
> Was it the rush of the action? The combat high? The adrenaline?
> Whatever the reason, you felt damn good about killing this Stovie bastard
> His lifeless body spasms for a few moments before going stiff


> You climb into the cabin of the truck
> You grab the dog tags of the men you just killed before rushing back into the fray
> From here you can see inside the cargo bay of the fifth halftrack
> The defectors had released the prisoners and had armed them assault rifles
> You sling your hunting rifle and grab one for yourself
> The prisoners exit the cargo bay and join the skirmish. You stay close behind them
> The enemy troops were NOT expecting this ambush at all
> Setting the rifle to Full-Auto you run into the fray guns blazing
> Estovakian troops are sandwiched between the rebel forces
> They didn't stand a chance
> The firefight ends as quickly as it started
> The convoy is now under rebel control

> Your headset springs back to life with chatter from your squad mates
> The ambush went off without a hitch, there were few rebel casualties
> You turn your attention to the corpses inside the cabin
> Returning only to take any valuables from the corpses
> Much to your surprise, Private Tatarin is still alive
> He's lying in a pool of his own blood, and barely hanging on by a thread
> You rummage through his dying body, looking for any valuables on him
"These are some nice kicks Tatarin. I'm sure you won’t mind if I borrow them."
> You steal his leather boots, replacing your dirty destroyed sneakers.
"Would you look at that. Perfect fit!"
> He mumbles something under his dying breath
> "I...I forgive you Emmerian. Just let go of your ha-"
"Save your fucking breath, you piece of shit."
> You pull out your revolver from its holster
> You load it with one bullet.
> The barrel is aimed between his eyes
> "Anonymous? Why?"

--

> You jolt awake, in your panic you manage to fall off the bed
> Tararin’s final words echo in your ears
> The look of despair on his face is burned into your eyes
> The experience is horrifying
> It takes you some time to recuperate enough to stand

> You clearly recall not being able to understand a word of Estovakian
> But words were so clear in your dream
> It doesn’t make sense
> How did he know your name?
> Was he really pleading for his life like that?
> Just what the fuck is wrong with you?
> The thought sends a cold shiver down your spine

> Your T-Shirt is soaked in a cold sweat, and you’re hyper ventilating
> The realization that all your dreams were once a reality makes you shudder
> All those lives you extinguished
> That guy, Private Tatarin, he didn’t look that much different from you!
> Yet, you ended his life without so much as a second thought
> The urge to vomit strikes and stumble to the bathroom
> You just barely reach the toilet in time before making a mess everywhere
> You regret drinking all that wine
> It’s not a pretty sight, but luckily Rarity and Twilight still seem to be fast asleep

> When you finish, you go to wash up at the sink
> There’s a mirror above the sink
> You gaze into it, looking at your own reflection
> Your stare long and hard at yourself taking note of your physical features
> All the physical activity that came with the rebel activities have kept you in top shape
> You weren’t the going to be the world’s next body building champ, but you were definitely built above average
> It looks like dragging all those cargo crates have finally paid off

> You chuckle as you notice at the tattoo on your arm
> This tattoo held one of the few good memories you have of the resistance
> It was during some weekend in the midst of the war, you and your squadron were enjoying a couple of beers in your off time
> Of course, it didn’t take long for everyone to become shitfaced drunk, including yourself
> Your comrade Mac was somehow able to convince you of letting tattoo the word “WOLVERINES!” on your arm
> The memory of that night is hazy at best
> But you do remember Mac’s drunken words exactly as he worked the needle on your arm
> “We’re the only ones out here fighting for this shiiit. And when this shit’s done with, you think we’re gonna be getting a parade or some shit? Fuck no we aint. Think of this as your medal instead. Be proud to wear it”
> By the end of that night, everyone had the word “Wolverines” tattooed on them one way or another

> However, your involvement in the resistance came with a price
> You sustained many different injuries during your service
> You were shot at countless times
> Hell, you were even burned alive at one point
> The various scars on your body are proof

> You look back up to your face
> Luckily, you managed to keep your handsome face in one piece
> But something is off setting

> It’s your reflection
> The Anonymous staring back at gives has a cold stare. His eyes are rigid, his stare is unforgiving
> He’s nothing more than a killer, a murder
> Is this really the person you’ve become?
> You can’t even stand to look at this person anymore
> You know deep in your gut [spoiler]That’s not you. That’s not the type of person you are. You’re better than that. [/spoiler]
> Stumbling out of the bathroom, you make your way back to the bed
> You try to fall back asleep, but you can’t
> Not after what you just went through

“Fuck it.”
> You exit the bedroom and make your way into the hallway
> A little exploring wouldn’t do you any harm
> Hopefully it will get your mind off the nightmare

> You backtrack your way into the castle
> Much to your advantage, you were barefoot at the moment
> The soft soles of your feet made almost no noise on the marble floors
> On the other hand, the ponies’ hooves made a distinct clopping noise whenever they moved
> You are able to navigate the castle halls without detection, briefly entering rooms that catch your attention
> Your set of sneaking skills would make Iroquois Pliskin damn proud

> One thing is for sure
> This castle is fucking huge
> You make a mental map of what you’ve explored so far
> In the North Wing, there are several theatres and rooms dedicated to music and arts. Your suite is located in this wing
> The center of the castle holds the throne room
> Celestia’s Tower was located in the East Wing. There are several gyms and arenas dedicated to sports such as archery and fencing as well
> The kitchen and dining were located in the Southern Wing. There are several rooms here that house the staff and Royal Guard.
> You take note the huge library and astronomical observatory on the West Wing of the castle.
> After several hours of exploring you become content with your progress
> Your watch reads 3:00 AM
“Fuck.”
> Your body is used to waking up at 4:30
> There’s really no point in going back to bed now

> There was a window near you
> Something outside caught your attention
> There is a huge labyrinth in the garden
> From where you stood you could several statues strewn throughout the maze
“Well well. What do we have here?”
> Well, if you were going to pull an all-nighter you might as well make it interesting

> You can feel the cool breeze against your face as you step outside
> The grass is cold and wet with morning dew
> The full moon illuminates the area in a soft blue light

“Well here goes nothing.”
> You enter the labyrinth
> If you jump up, you are barely able to see above the bushes
> Traversing the maze is somewhat difficult, but it’s mostly just tedious
> When you lose your bearings, you take a quick bunny hop to find the nearest landmark
> In this case, it’s a large statue sitting in a corner of the labyrinth
> You forget all about your nightmare from earlier
> The labyrinth becoming the center of your focus

> You reach a small clearing
> There is a statue in the center of the clearing
> It’s the statue of some sort of creature
> It looks like it’s made of several animals stitched together, what was that called again? A chimera?
“Man, you’re one UGLY motherfucker”
> There is a plaque in front of it
> It reads “Discord : God of Chaos”
“Hmm.”
> God of Chaos?
> You juggle the thought in your mind
> Do the ponies still believe in gods?
> Perhaps there are actual gods living among the ponies here?
> What kinds of religion do the ponies believe in?
> Are there even religions here?
> In the midst of your thoughts you don’t even notice yourself leaning up against the statue
> As soon as your body makes contact with the stature a piercing headache hits you
> Your vision blurs
> Your ears ring as if they just heard an explosion
> The headache is so great, it sends you to knees

--

> The headache stops and slowly your senses return to normal
> The labyrinth is nowhere in sight
> Instead, you find yourself in back in the city
> You stand in front of the destroyed ruins of an old shopping center
> This used to be a makeshift hospital run by the Resistance
> It was just on the receiving end of a fierce bombing run

> There are several people trapped inside the collapsed building, some of them rebel fighters. But many of them were civilians
> But without the proper equipment, there is no way you could pull them from the rubble
> Their cries for help fill the air
> The building quickly catches fire and eventually the screams for help stop

> You were one of the lucky few that was pulled from the wreckage
> You were inside the building when the first bomb hit, the blast knocked you unconscious
> The last thing you remember was the sound of a huge sonic boom, then a huge explosion
> It was a fuel air bomb that went off near, the heat wave created from the blast burned a large portion of your skin
> It looked like your skin was melting
> You reeked of burning flesh and gasoline
> There were many other’s in similar condition to you, however, their injuries nowhere as near as bad as yours

> Much of your back had been singed
> Any sort of movement had been met with pain
> Even with the heavy doses of morphine, the pain was excruciating

> There is the burning wreckage of an A-10 Fighter Plane not too far from here
> He was shot down by a Rebel SAM site
> You and your squad are circled around a lone Estovakian pilot that was pulled from the wreckage
> He has been tied up and blindfolded

> Your attempts to interrogate him have been useless
> He has been trained against all methods of interrogation
> The bastard won’t break

> For a while, you all just stood around him motionless
> “What should we do with him?” Someone asked
> More silence

> The only emotion you felt was rage
> No sympathy, no remorse
> Just blind fury
> You stepped forward
“I know.”
> You pulled out one of the Molotovs you had in your bag and began pouring the gasoline on the pilot
“Burn him.”
> This really freaked out the pilot, he finally spoke out
> “No. You cannot! Geneva Convention prohibits any military from torturing their prisoners!”  His accent was thick
> You began to pour another bottle on his head
“We’re not military.”

> By now more rebels have joined you
> One of them even goes as far as breaking the bottle over his head
> Any resistance from the pilot is met with the end of your boot
> “Please! No!”  The pilot is in hysterics
> Occasional he swallows some of the gasoline being poured on him
> He vomits on the street before collapsing in it
> [spoiler] Oh god. Are you really going to go through with this? [/spoiler]
> You take a couple steps back
> You pull out a zippo lighter and toss it at the pilot

> He is instantly engulfed by the flames
> He screams and struggles
> It’s actually quite disturbing
> Several other rebels either turn away or lose their lunch

> But you?
> You simply watch in fascination
> It looks painful
> No one should ever have to go through this
> Yet, you just did?

> What gives you the right?
> You remember the hospital this man just demolished
> There are people still trapped in the rubble
> Compared to those people, this pilot is lucky
> His death will be quick
> Those poor souls trapped under the tons of concrete?
> They will have to wait until they either die of exhaustion, starvation or from their wounds
> They are the ones that will suffer the most

> By now the man has stopped struggling
> His clothes has since long burned off
> The only thing that remains is his charred corpse and some of his weapons
> You limp over to the body and yank the dog tags from his neck
> You shove them in your pocket
> His corpse reeks of gasoline and charred flesh
> You don’t know why you just did that

> You ponder if this is all justified
> If this is anyway to treat your fellow man
> Because honestly, what’s the difference between you and that pilot?
> The difference between your ‘comrades’ and your ‘enemies’
> You eventually reach a conclusion, answering your own question
> The difference? You live here. This is your home. Not theirs.

> The rebels soon disperse
> Many of them load back onto the convoys from earlier tonight
> The higher ups will not be happy with the loss of one of their most active hospitals
> You hop on a pickup truck and drive off in the distance
> Leaving the charred body behind
> They will have to learn you are a force to be reckoned with

> The truck drives off onto the highway
> The crash site becomes farther and father away
> The night sky eventually becomes bright with light
> It’s so bright you have to shield your eyes with light
> Eventually the light subsides
> Once your eyes adjust you can make out the Discord Statue once more

> You struggle to stand up once more
> There are tears flowing from your eyes
> Once again, your body is stiff
> It’s near impossible to stop yourself from trembling
> It takes all your strength to pull yourself together

> You continue on with the labyrinth
> Your mind and body exhausted
> You find it difficult to keep your balance
> Walking soon becomes too much of a challenge
> Your movements are nothing more than a steady limp

> Somehow, you’ve made it to the center of the labyrinth
> As you make into the clearing you take a good look around you
> From here you can clearly see the entirety of the night sky
> All the stars seem to shine more intensely here
> There is a beautiful fountain in the center of the clearing
> The way the moonlight shines of the flowing water is just breathtaking
> The sweet aroma of flowers fills your senses, a wonderful scent in contrast to the stench of burnt flesh
> As you make your way towards the fountain you notice a figure sitting on a bench adjacent to the fountain
> Details become more clear as your approach the figure

> It’s a pony, another alicorn to be specific
> By it’s shape and body you can tell she’s female
> She’s dark blue in color with a moon tattoo on her flank
> Her mane flows freely in the wind; it is an exact replica of the night sky. Stars and everything
> She is completely focused on the night sky
> As you become close enough she turns to see you

> She get’s a good look at you before returning to star gazing
> “We didn’t expect to have company tonight.”
> Her voice is beautiful; it’s actually soothing
> She pat’s the empty spot next to her on the bench
> “Come. Sit”